


Anyone Else Remember That 'I'm Looking At Porn' Virus? Because ...

by thewindowsshutdownnoise



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Inktale (Undertale), Crack, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 14:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewindowsshutdownnoise/pseuds/thewindowsshutdownnoise
Summary: I also came up with a joke description while writing this fic, which was: "In which Fresh and Error Totally Do It, but Error just ends up accidentally downloading porn-based malware and making Ink’s entire century or millennia or something." I honestly never even bothered writing a real summary because this fic is just ... too flippin' ridiculous to merit one.





	Anyone Else Remember That 'I'm Looking At Porn' Virus? Because ...

**Author's Note:**

> I'd say I was sorry for the title, but y'all seem cool, and I wouldn't want to viciously lie to cool people like that. I definitely remember that virus, though, because my dad managed to open it on his work computer, back in the days of him being a lowly office lackey. _Whoops._ He was also a computer programmer, so that's extra embarrassing, I guess. 
> 
> There's no genuinely explicit content in this--it's pretty much just a cracky idea taken semi-seriously--but I figured it still merited the mature rating because of the, uh, nature of virus Error manages to download to himself and the fact that some dialogue does get pretty ... well, mature.

Ink lept into the anti-Void, coming out the other side of his summoned portal only to be brought up short by a high-pitched, feminine-sounding moan, the sort that trembled with pleasure, rising and falling through whole octaves, spiraling to a dizzying height only to crash down and peter out into breathy pants and soft, unintelligible murmurs. By the time the sound stopped echoing through the white and endless space around him, even Ink, who had no natural shame to speak of, was slightly flushed. Of course, he immediately looked around, trying to spy--ah, there Error was, sitting on the floor, arms tightly crossed and expression especially pissy, face flushed a vibrant yellow and … by himself?

One of Ink’s eye lights momentarily registered a question mark, and he looked up to where the dolls of alternate Sanses hung among masses of blue thread, half expecting to find that Error had hoisted a wholly different sort of guest up there, too, just to keep them hidden from Ink. Not immediately spying a new, living addition to Error’s collection, he looked back down, again, only to find Error glaring at him. But not, conspicuously, shouting. Or even speaking. Or … making any noise, really, aside from the static hum that constantly emanated from his glitches. 

“Uh,” Ink said. “You alright, there, bud?” 

“ _Out_ ,” Error ground out, immediately. His voice flattened out into static, glitched, looped back--

And started to play something else. 

The voice was more masculine this time, but still distinctly breathy, groaning out a constant stream of, “ _Yes, yes, yes!_ Fuck me! _Yes!_ ”

“Makers be,” Ink breathed out, as Error slapped both his hands over his own mouth, trying and failing to contain the sounds. 

The moaning eventually petered out, though Ink was pretty sure it echoed and reverberated through the anti-Void much, much longer than it would have, elsewhere. He could practically _see_ Error’s fury mounting with each audio loop. Ink managed to contain himself just long enough to hear the clip play to the very end.

“Was that--” Ink’s voice trembled with delight and suppressed laughter. “Was that the voice track from a--”

“I will kill you,” Error promised, voice fervent. “I will kill you _right now_ if you don’t--”

A sudden rainbow-colored POOF announced Fresh’s entrance into the antivoid. He swerved towards Ink and Error, coming to a stop directly in front of them and kicking his skateboard up into his own hand.

“ _You_ ,” Error hissed at him, his voice glitching heavily. Even for Error, he sounded furious.

Fresh just grinned down at him (ignoring Ink entirely, which _rude_ ). “Bae.”

“Bae?” Ink managed, the edges of hysterical laughter creeping ever closer, his entire body practically trembling with the need to start making ill-advised jokes. He only stopped himself because he also _desperately_ wanted to hear whatever was coming next. (And a little because he couldn’t decide _which joke to make, first._ )

Error opened his mouth, looking ready to start shouting, only his voice dissolved into static before he could even start, and another clip started to play. 

“Ohhh,” a woman’s voice-- _another_ woman’s voice--played through Error. “ **Fu(n)k** me, daddy.”

The speed and ferocity with which magic rushed to color Error’s face made _Ink_ dizzy.

Or, he thought, a moment later, puking black ink up onto the ground, that could have been the work of his own sudden, unbridled glee.

He heard screeching and looked up to find that Fresh was now holding Error aloft by both wrists, an apparent attempt to keep Error from effectively summoning his strings and simply hoisting Fresh towards the ceiling. He was … partially succeeding. Their arms were now tangled together in the blue thread, but Fresh, at least, didn’t seem to mind. He looked to be intentionally tangling them up worse, making obnoxious kissy noises at Error, while Error took the opportunity to violently kick him in the shins and knees, loudly demanding to be put down--commands that were interrupted, here and there, by shivering moans or increasingly outlandish praise of--

Well. 

_Someone’s_ cock.

Ink was laughing so hard, by that point, he barely managed to wheeze out, “You-- He-- Oh my stars-- Did you really--”

“Shut up!” Error yelled. “Let go of me! I’ll kill you both!”

“Brah,” Fresh said, grinning and thoroughly tangled up with him. “That ain’t a very convincing argument to let go of ya.” 

Error beeped in distress as Fresh leaned closer, shark’s grin firmly fixed on his face. Ink, ever the helpful sort, finally managed to choke out, “Use protection,” at which point the other skeleton, glitching violently within Fresh’s grip, simply went limp, eyes filling with error signs as he finally succumbed to a crash. 

Pulling out his phone, Ink managed to control his laughter enough to get out, “Wait. Wait. Stay just like--”

The photo he snapped showed his own grinning skull, with Fresh standing in the background (also grinning) and still holding Error up by the wrists.

“Dream’s making a scrapbook,” Ink said, turning back to Fresh. 

“He wanted ya to take pictures?” Fresh asked. Whatever his eyebrows were doing, at the moment, pretty effectively communicated what an ill-advised idea that _would_ have been.

“Nope!” Ink put his phone away. “He told me specifically not to.” He shrugged. “But I’m here. You’re here. Error’s … sort of here.”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Error said, emerging from the reboot, his voice still partially swallowed by static and fading in and out. His eyes darted back and forth between Ink and Fresh like he couldn’t decide who he wanted to glare at more, at the moment. 

Suddenly, Ink found himself dangling, upside down, from the ceiling of the anti-Void, Fresh hanging beside him. Error had apparently escaped his grip and lost no time hoisting the both of them into the air by his strings. 

“Wait,” Ink said, looking up at Fresh, who was at least hanging with his head properly oriented towards the ceiling. “Why does Fresh get to be right-side-up?”

“ _Because shut up_ ,” Error hissed out, voice distorting on the final syllable, mostly swallowed by static as another clip tried to play. But he immediately stepped through a glitched portal and disappeared from the anti-Void before either Ink or Fresh could hear what the clip contained.

Both remaining monsters were quiet for a moment, just hanging, side by side. Then Ink started wiggling until he got one hand free, holding it out to Fresh. When Fresh didn’t immediately respond, Ink added, “High five.” Then made an illustrative gesture with his hand, like Fresh might have actually forgotten what a high-five was. Fresh just cocked an eyebrow at him. “I think … congratulations?” Ink tried. “So.” He wiggled his fingers, a little harder, grinning. “High five.”

Fresh grinned back, sudden and sharp, reaching out to slap his hand down against Ink’s. 

Ink shook his hand out, unsure whether the excess force Fresh had put behind it was accidental or intentional.

They hung side by side, a moment longer, their silence companionable enough.

“So,” Ink said, finally, drawing the word out until one syllable became several.

“I ain’t gonna kiss and tell,” Fresh said.

Ink huffed. “Spoilsport.”

**Author's Note:**

> You ever just sit around and think about Ink and Fresh being weird-ass emotionally-impaired buds together, sometimes. Because, boy, I sure do. 
> 
> I can also be found on Tumblr, still under the name [thewindowsshutdownnoise](https://thewindowsshutdownnoise.tumblr.com/). As I like to tell people, I don't really take requests because my free time is sporadic, and so my ability to write fic, in general, is somewhat unpredictable. But I've proven to be highly suggestible, in the past, when it comes to fic ideas, and I might have a birthday coming up in less than a month, which _might_ make me more suggestible than usual. Maybe. So, uh, do with that information what you will, I guess. Just understand I work a lot with no real set schedule, so god knows how that'll go with fic suggestions, really.


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